No, they can go to the next place now.

Next place is a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts. The shelves are stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.

He goes through the bookstore and very conscientiously collects only and exactly the books he will need for school.

Then he goes through the bookstore again looking for books that look like they might have particularly useful information about how the wizarding world works.

There are those! Hogwarts: A History might have a lot of information about the school, as might A History of Magic, both by Bathilda Bagshot. Beyond that, there is a myriad books about herbs, creatures, spells, potions, history, politics, law, self-help books...

He gets those two and one about law. It's important to know the rules.

Cauldrons are next on the list!

Probably he will not be tempted to get any extras when it comes to cauldrons.

Really? Not even this solid gold cauldron that he can easily afford and which cuts potion preparation time in half compared to the pewter that's on his school list?

The school list says pewter. He will get pewter.

Pewter it is! Then they can get a collapsible brass telescope and a set of scales for weighing potions ingredients, and after that they can go to the Apothecary, which smells of bad eggs and rotten cabbages. It is otherwise fascinating, though: barrels of slimy stuff stand on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders line the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hang from the ceiling. Hagrid asks the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Victor.

Wow. That's... that's something.

He is not at all tempted to linger in the Apothecary.

Once outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checks Victor's list again.

"Just yer wand left—oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

...he smiles slightly.

"It's okay, you don't have to," he says.

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at—an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

"Okay," he says, smiling. "Thank you."

So they go to the Eeylops Owl Emporium. It's dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes staring at them for a myriad cages and perched around the store.

It's a little bit intimidating. He avoids the larger birds and drifts toward the back, among the elf owls and little owls and...

...that's not an owl.

"That's not an owl," he observes to Hagrid, pointing at the sleek black raven perched in a cage at the very back of the shop.

The raven makes a sound remarkably like a snicker.

Hagrid frowns at it. "It isn't," he agrees. "Yeh should prob'ly not get that one, it's owls that do mail, an' Hogwarts doesn't accept ravens."

"Eeylops Owl Emporium would never offer a bird that couldn't carry mail!" says the shopkeeper, hurrying over. "Poor Muninn can't help how he's made."

The raven snickers again.

"I assure you, there'll be no trouble about it at Hogwarts."

"No trouble," echoes the bird in his croaking raven voice.

Victor looks hesitantly at Muninn.

And Hagrid looks at Victor. "Yeh want that one? I can get it fer yeh."

He nods.

Then after a short transaction he will be the proud owner of the weirdest owl ever.

There is a nameplate on the cage that says Muninn. It looks very wizardly. Victor is happy.